


Hello, may I ask you a few questions?

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fibbing, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Niall is a photographer, amnesty international, uni fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry works for amnesty international and Niall is a total fibber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, may I ask you a few questions?

This is a good day, Harry thinks, a good day to help human rights.

He has just finished talking to a group of the science lads from campus 3, who agreed to spend a few pounds on the poorer people in the world, and that makes it a good day in Harry’s book – or at least when his day revolves around informing the public about what is going around in the rest of the world. These are university students for crying out loud, for them to donate just a few of their hard earned money on something other than junk food or course books is a miracle.

That is why Harry, with a bit of pep in his step, walks forward with his head held high and stops the first person on the street without any further speculation.

“Hello, may I ask you a few questions?” he greets the incoming blonde with a smile. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you,”

“Oh, it’s errr, no. It’s fine,” the stranger finally decides and looks up from his camera to meet Harry’s eyes. And shit, it really _is_ a good day.

The blonde stranger is clad in a pair of blue skinny jeans, a striped shirt and, has he been hit by sunstroke or is this boy really wearing the same hat as Oliver Twist? Not that it hurts his overall attractiveness, but why? Otherwise the blonde looks like someone who walked out of a laddy-lad add with the cheeky grin and the slight muscle on his arms.

“I am Harry and I’m from Amnesty International, may I ask for your name?” Harry flirts smoothly, stepping closer to the boy. He suddenly regrets his insistency on every volunteer wearing the recognisable yellow vest whenever they were out looking for donators. As much as it draws attention to their cause and let people know where they could seek information if they needed it, it really does not help you when you are meeting fit lads.

“Yeah, I’m Niall, nice ‘t meet you, mate.” The Irish man replies and puts out his hand for Harry to shake. “Good things you do, nice people.”

“Yeah? You know about us? Did you know that right now three quarters of the world has been reported using torture? It’s been illegal for so long that these numbers are way too high,” Harry tells eagerly. He wants to spread his knowledge, make people aware that not everyone in the world had it as good as they did in good old London, and if this blonde boy is ready to listen Harry has a lot of information he wants to get off his chest.

“That’s quite horrible.” Niall concedes and holds up his camera for a quick shot before lowering it again, “You don’t mind do you?”

And he guesses he doesn’t.

“Can I ask you how old you are? It could be plausible for you to help you know, if you wanted to.” Harry leaves the suggestion lingering, watching the way the corner of Niall’s eyes crinkle before he smiles.

“I’m seventeen,” the lad laugh happily, watching the Harry’s face falls from the well-practiced mask to completely lost composure.

“Oh, I… I’m, when do you turn eighteen?” He squeaks pathetically.

This is a mistake he has made before. Harry has never been good at differentiating people by their age, and a lot of sixteen and seventeen year old girls look as if they could be a lot older. And since he and Liam always stand on the road near their campus and the high school is just a few blocks down the street, it had made him exclusively approach boys for the single reason that they rarely looked older than they were.

And here is sneakily little Niall, looking like he was at least twenty years old, if not older, with his yielding replies and charming smiles – someone who Harry might be able to persuaded to donating a few pounds out of the goodness of his heart – and then it turns out he is not even old enough to join them.

“I’m a December boy meself; sadly, quite a few months before they’re gunna let me vote.” The blonde says apologetic. But the glint in his sparkling blue eyes tells him that something is not right.

“Well uh, if you’re interested, you can text this number,” he pulls out one of the cards with all the information cramped onto the little space, “and be a part of our texting service, it’s just a few messages a months and if you wanna respond, it’s only the cost of a text, but no one really pays for them anymore do they?” Harry informs him with a smile.

“Yeah, you know what? I might just do that, thank you.” Niall nods kindly and tucks the card into the pocket of his jeans, “I better go, my mate has this game and I would hate to miss it,”

“It’s cool, all fine really, just happy that you let me talk to you for a while,” the brunet finishes with a smile, “You know, you really don’t look like a seventeen year old. A bit funny you’re here at a college campus innit? More like 20 or 21 I’d say,”

“Well, Harry. How about I text you when I’m 21, would you like that?” Niall cheeks and pulls off the baker cap to run a hand through his blonde hair.

“Yes, let’s agree to that,” he replies and accepts the card back from Niall’s pocket. He writes down his name and number on the blank page of it before giving it back, “Send me that texty-text when you’re legal, yeah?”

“I’ll be sure to do that, mate.” The blonde grins before walking down the street.

Harry waits the entire 60 seconds before his phone vibrates in his pocket. With a brief smile he turns around and approaches a new group of lads. “Hey, can I ask you a few questions?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want a drabble, oneshot or something, leave a comment or message me somewhere :-)


End file.
